Page 354 of Rosetti Family New York
"I'm observing," I reply, taking the crystal flute while watching movement patterns across the ballroom. Old habits die hard. "There's a difference."
"Right. And the coin flipping is just for show?"
I glance down, surprised to see the silver coin moving between my fingers with unusual energy.
"Maybe I'm getting hives from all this happiness," I admit, though my tone is more sharp than funny. "Watching Emilio change from a legendary recluse to a devoted husband is making me anxious."
"Afraid it's contagious?" Carmela's voice holds genuine amusement. "The playboy Matteo Rosetti, worried about catching feelings?"
Before I can deliver a properly cutting response, Dom approaches with the stride that means business has crashed the party.
His focused expression makes smart people pay attention and even smarter ones look for the nearest exit.
"Matt," he says, nodding toward the mansion's quieter corridors. "We need to discuss the Chase situation. New info."
Chase Callahan. Four months of rising conflict, failed hits, and attacks on our family interests. The jerk who tried to kill our sister and has been draining our resources while planning something that could ruin everything we've built. My jaw clenches at his name.
"What kind of info?" I ask, following him to the library where we handle family matters away from prying ears.
"The kind that changes the game." Dom's voice is satisfied as he shuts the heavy door. "We found his weak spot."
He slides a manila folder across the mahogany desk. I open it, and my breath catches. The photo shows a young woman, maybe twenty-four, with honey-blonde hair and eyes like emeralds. She's stunning enough to stop traffic and start conflicts, but there's more to her. Intelligence, maybe. Defiance. A spirit that's not easily broken.
"Isabella Callahan," Dom explains, settling into a leather chair with a creak. "Chase's niece. Twenty-four, art history degree from Columbia, currently at the Metropolitan Museum. Lives alone in Tribeca, minimal security, predictable routine."
I examine the surveillance photos. Her leaving work, entering her building, living with the casual confidence of someone who's never had to look over her shoulder. But something in her posture suggests hidden depths. This isn't just Chase's weak spot, she's intriguing on her own.
"Clean record," Dom continues. "No involvement in family business, no knowledge of her uncle's operations. By all accounts, she's the one innocent part of Chase Callahan's world."
"And?" I ask, already aware of the direction this is taking.
"And we take her," Dom says with the calculating tone that's brought our family success for three generations. "Strategic leverage. Chase won't expect us to target civilian family."
The folder has just enough to pique interest, a photograph, basic details, the outline of a plan meant for further discussion. Isabella Callahan, living her normal life while her uncle fights against everything I value.
"You want me to get her," I note, feeling a thrill I don't want to analyze.
"I want you to think about it," Dom corrects. "We'll discuss the details another day."
I look at her photo, noticing features that seem familiar despite never having seen her. The way her chin tilts suggestsshe won't break easily. Good. Fragile things don't interest men like me.
"When?" I ask, making up my mind despite myself.
"Soon. Chase is planning something big. Intel suggests a strike within the month. Better to have leverage ready before he acts."
I close the folder, but Isabella's face stays in my mind. Chase Callahan's niece. The one pure thing in a corrupt empire, about to become my responsibility. My complication. My...
The thought stops there, too risky to finish even in my head.
"Consider it done," I say, standing smoothly. "I'll handle it myself."
"Matt." Dom's voice halts me at the door, carrying the warning brothers give when they see danger coming. "This isn't like Emilio's situation. You're not getting a woman who wants you, you're taking someone who has every reason to dislike everything you stand for."
"I know the difference," I reply, though my grip on the folder tightens, betraying a possessive instinct. "This is a professional matter, not a personal fixation."
"Make sure it stays that way." His look suggests he knows how these things can change when Rosetti men meet women they want to keep. "We need her cooperation, not fear."
I nod, but as I head back to the wedding where my twin celebrates his happy ending, my mind races with plans and strategies. Isabella Callahan doesn't know yet, but her normal life is over. Tomorrow, she becomes mine. To protect, to use, to...
